Whipped
by bemusedbicycle
Summary: In which Hook and Robin are rightly afraid of their women. Captain Swan/Outlaw Queen.
1. Chapter 1

"Just a quick trip." Hook mutters, eying his restraints with disdain. They took his hook almost immediately and he would be damned if he left this god forsaken castle without it. "In and out, easy as _pie_, I do believe you said."

He slants his narrowed eyes to his neighbor, slouched against the wall casually, legs folded at the ankle. Robin places his hands behind his head with a leisurely smile - split lip and bruised jaw doing nothing to chase away the mirth in his eyes - irons dragging noisily against the prison floor.

"It would have been in and out, if someone hadn't been distracted by jewels, _pirate_."

"Well, had the master archer not _missed_, perhaps we would – "

The door to the jail cell clangs open noisily, interrupting their argument. A large man with a rounded stomach bounds his way in heavily, a delighted grin stretching his (deplorable, really) features. Hook sighs and rolls his eyes to the ceiling, ignoring the way the motion pulls at the cut across his eyebrow.

"Back again so soon?" He fights his own smile at Robin's chuckle, tilting his head and staring at the man with wide blue eyes. "I told you I was growing on you."

The man scoffs heavily, storming forward with clumsy movements, pulling Hook close to his face with a grubby fist on his vest. Hook shifts with a grimace, the man's rancid breath washing over him in waves. He hears Robin chuckle somewhere behind him and sighs with exasperation.

"Who sent ye?" He pulls Hook up further and Hook chuckles, chained feet shuffling for a better position on the stone floor, body aching in protest. The man peers at him carefully, anger glinting in his beady eyes.

"No one sent us, you bloody fool. As we've said, we are merely travelers passing through."

"Passing through, eh? You just happened to be passing through our castle's war room? And you just _happened_ to be looking over strategy maps?"

"Those were strategy maps?" He turns to look at Robin with a shocked expression on his face. Robin mirrors the look with a slight shrug, lips tilting up slightly. "Gods above, I hope that was a work in progress then. Your bloody strategy is _weak_, if I may be so bold as to – "

The man cuts him off with a loud growl, shoving him back forcefully to the ground. He chuckles in amusement, ignoring the pain radiating in his side. His wrist rubs against the metal of the restraints as he raises a pacifying hand. "Alright, that was bad form. I shall make no more observations of your kingdom's _strategy_."

Robin chuckles and sits up from his reclined position. "Speak for yourself. Did you see the battlement alignment? Positively dreadful. And –"

His sentence is cut off when the castle shakes ominously around them. Cold dread settles in Hook's stomach and his head turns slowly to look at Robin. Robin's expression mirrors his own, face set in stern lines, eyes harboring knowing resignation.

They've been discovered.

"What the-" The large man totters on his legs as another terrible explosion rocks the castle. Hook shuffles closer to Robin.

"Do you think it's them?"

Robin appears to be listening hard, head inclined to the small bar window at the top of the prison walls. There's a vicious shriek and then a very loud, very _female_, laugh. Robin sighs and his entire body deflates.

Hook frowns. "Bloody hell."

He turns over onto his back quickly, slapping his hand loudly on his thigh and arching a single dark eyebrow up at their captor. The man seems confused, eyes wide as the sounds of a battle begin clearly echoing throughout the castle.

"Alright, mate. We have a proposition for you." The castle shakes again and the man stumbles, almost falling completely forward. Hook winces and Robin scoots forward, as much as his restraints allow. He looks at the portly fellow eagerly, head bowed in concentration.

"You let us go, and we will get you to safety. As you are now aware, your castle is under attack."

The man furrows his eyebrows, lips frowning in confusion. "Why should I let you go?"

"Because we know how these assailants work. We can evade their attack easily."

Hook shoots Robin a pointed look and Robin scratches the back of his head. "Alright, not easily, but I think we can get away cleanly with them none the wiser."

"Oh, another brilliant plan, I'm sure." Hook rolls his eyes and begins to tug at his restraints in earnest. "I'm fairly certain it's a bit late for all that. They seem to be well aware we are here."

"We could always hide."

"_Hide_? Are you –"

He's cut off abruptly when the wooden prison door blasts open, Regina strolling in casually. Her head is held high, not even a single speck of dirt on her riding leathers and vest. She shoots Robin an appraising look and he visibly shrinks back against the wall. She points one well-manicured finger in his direction, tilting her gaze back to their captor, standing mouth agape in the center of the room.

"I'll deal with you in a moment."

She waves her hand and a cloud of purple smoke wraps itself around their guard before a shout erupts from beneath it. The smoke dissipates and a small squirrel is all that remains. Regina smiles a cold, calculating grin and bends at the waist, tapping the creature's head softly.

"Good boy."

Hope springs foolishly in Hook's chest as the castle silences around them but it's quickly squashed when Emma comes strolling into the small cell, sword carefully tilted over her shoulder. Her green eyes are smiling - the adrenaline of battle and fight coursing through her veins – but they stone abruptly when they land on him.

Regina looks over her shoulder, still petting the small captor- turned-squirrel. Emma sighs.

"Really? Did you have to turn him into a squirrel?"

Regina arches a brow. "And did you have to knock all those poor boys unconscious?"

Emma shifts, smile tugging at her lips. "Fair point."

Regina nods and stands with a heavy sigh, fixing her eyes on Robin. He tries to give her a grin, but it comes out more like grimace. He bows slightly. "My Queen."

Her lips settle into a deep frown. "Don't. Even." She waves her hand and the manacles disappear from around their arms and legs. Hook rubs his tender wrist gently, massaging feeling back into his forearm.

"Are you alright to handle the rest of this, Emma?"

Emma hums quietly with a nod as Regina steps forward and drifts her fingers along Robin's neck. He gives a nervous shudder and then the both of them disappear in a cloud of purple smoke. Hook's eyes drift back to Emma as she slides her sword back into the scabbard at her side. She's wearing her riding leathers and a thin tunic, the exertion of battle causing it to cling to her torso in an utterly delicious way. Her hair is knotted on top of her head, thin tendrils falling loose and tickling the skin of her neck. His eyes focus on a single bead of sweat, sliding down her collarbone, dipping into the hollow of her throat.

He coughs and shifts uncomfortably as he stands. Emma's eyebrow arches as she looks pointedly below his waist.

"Seriously?"

He shifts again and gives her an apologetic smile, leather pants _far_ too tight. "Sorry, love. Can't be helped when you're like this."

She takes a step closer and he fights not to take one back. She has fire in her eyes and a sword at her side and in his very _extensive_ experience - that is not a good combination.

"Is that why you decided to be an idiot and get yourself captured? So you could _see me like this_?" She takes another step closer, eyes blazing as her lips hover over his own.

His eyes dart rapidly between her lips and her eyes, bloody minx tempting him with her proximity.

"It was Robin's idea." His voice _absolutely _does not squeak.

"You're a three hundred year old man, Killian. You really expect me to believe Robin is making decisions for you?" She snaps as she grabs his forearm, nails biting into his skin. Her eyes drift over his face, focus on the deep cut over his eyebrow with a heavy sigh and deep frown.

"You could have been killed." She whispers and pain flashes in her eyes – quick and bright – but enough for him to notice. And enough for him to feel terrible. His free hand rises and brushes along her cheek.

"Aye, love. It won't happen again."

She presses a kiss to the palm of his hand before rolling her eyes and taking a step back. "Don't make promises you can't keep, _pirate_." She reaches into her back belt and tosses him his hook. He catches it with a grateful grin, already moving behind her towards the door and clicking his namesake into place. "And be happy you're not Robin. Regina was not pleased."

He shudders as he thinks of what the no-longer-evil queen has in store for his friend. Emma laughs at his look of horror.

(He makes it up to her later – at least _four _times. She wipes the smug grin off his face with a careful and pointed nip to his bottom lip.)


	2. Chapter 2

"Nice apron." Hook grins as he leans against the kitchen counter, eyeing Robin as he rolls his eyes, elbow deep in soapy water. He wandered his way down to the castle kitchens at Emma's gentle insistence – seeking some bread and cheese after his very drawn out _apology_.

He thinks of her laid out on the bed two floors up – pale skin against deep red sheets, blonde hair curled and twisted around his fingers, her perfect mouth falling open in a gentle gasp as he –

Robin pulls his attention back with a rather forceful slamming of a plate and he grunts and shifts – scanning the counter for suitable rations. Robin eyes him with thinly veiled hostility as he continues to scrub somewhat maniacally at the dishware.

"And what is your punishment, then?"

Hook chuckles and cocks an eyebrow as he reaches for the bowl of grapes. "Swan has much more _gratifying_ forms of punishment than the queen."

Robin opens his mouth to retort but he's cut off by Granny swinging into the kitchens, serene smile on her face. Hook doesn't even have time to feel cold dread coil in his stomach before she hurls an apron his way, snagging it nicely on the curve of his hook.

"Not so fast, lover boy." She peers at him over the thin frames of her glasses and he actually winces at her withering glare. "You're on vegetable duty."

She guides him (somewhat roughly, _really_) to the large table in the center of the room and pats him lightly on the back, spearing a potato on his hook before dumping out the rest of the sack on the countertop. He stares at the pile with wide eyes and Robin throws back his head in laughter.

"Oh, gratifying indeed, friend."

-/-

The tavern is crowded, the dwarves doing their best to keep up with the orders as the crowd only grows larger around the bar. Hook is infinitely grateful they finished kitchen duty early enough to beat the rush – especially since they managed to find a corner booth _and_ grab several drinks to tie them over.

(Even though the booth was previously occupied – who _really_ is going to say no to the fearsome Captain Hook and the legendary Robin Hood?)

Hook groans and swirls his drink around in his glass. "All I'm saying is that at least your woman had the presence of mind to warn you of her punishment. Mine bloody sent me into the trenches with no forewarning at all."

"She is no one's woman." Robin mutters with a far-away look in his eyes. "She is her own."

Hook stares at him blankly for a moment and then sips at his drink. "Bloody hell, but you're far gone."

Robin glances at him in amusement. "Like you are any different. I see the way you follow Emma around, practically twirled about her finger."

Hook grins, sliding his tongue against his teeth. "Ah, but what talented fingers they are."

As if on cue - like he can sense him talking about his daughter is a lascivious manner – David appears at their table. His grin is wide and he slides into their booth without preamble, sloshing his drink on the table and nudging Hook with his elbow.

"Easy, mate." Hook pulls his drink closer to him as David eyes them in excitement. His lips twitch despite himself – the prince is a _bit_ socially awkward at the best of times (which is understandable as while Hook had his crew and Robin his Merry Men, David had – well, the dwarves). David drums his fingers on the tabletop and Hook eyes him carefully, taking in the blown wide pupils.

"Exactly how much have you had to drink tonight?"

David waves his hand back and forth. "A bit. It is of no concern to you." He leans forward on the table dramatically and Robin snorts. "I am here with information."

Hook groans as Robin chuckles because that statement only means one thing – the good prince _needs_ something.

"Before you even begin, it will serve you well to know that both Robin and myself have been reprimanded severely for our most recent adventure."

David leans back with another wide grin, sipping at his mug of ale with shining eyes. He pushes himself up slightly, puffing out his chest with all the air of a _royal_ and Hook fights the very real urge to roll his eyes – or punch him in the face.

He certainly owes him a few.

"And who are you to deny your prince?"

Robin glances at him with a shrug and a mischievous grin. Hook hears the challenge in his friend's voice, his spine stiffening in response.

"Aye, go on."

Might as well get used to the bloody potatoes.

-/-

"In and out, you said!" Hook roars over the clashing of blades, the terrible beasts swarming out of the walls (the sodding _walls_ – this is not in jest). He kicks one in the face and spins, managing to cut one down just as it makes a flying leap for David. David nods his thanks with a heaving breath, resting lightly with his hands on his knees for a moment.

"I thought it would be – "

The walls shake around them and Robin lets out a loud groan as his bow releases another arrow – hitting one of the black monstrosities right between its eyes. Hook glares at David.

"This is _your_ fault."

David swings and decapitates another creature with a clean blow, eyebrows knitting in confusion as Robin becomes increasingly more panicked, the shaking of the castle growing in fervor ominously. "What are you – "

An arrow whizzes from the complete opposite direction of their small group, burying itself in the chest of their enemy. David eyes it and he pales considerably when he recognizes the _snow white _color of the feathers.

"Shit."

_Shit, indeed_.


End file.
